Read Online Christmas at Waratah Bay by Marion Lennox - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marion Lennox
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looking in. Trying to figure how people can make you claustrophobic. It could happen,” she conceded. “If I’m here for a few days over Christmas it might even happen to me.”
“It takes years before you learn.”
“Can you unlearn? How long have you been on this place?”
“Sarah . . . ”
“Yeah, I know, not my business,” she said, cordially, and knelt down and fondled Bing’s ears. Under her t-shirt the puppy squirmed and she tugged him out. She set him down on the veranda and he wobbled a couple of puppy steps and sat down.
Bing nosed him and he looked up and whined.
Before he could help himself, Max found himself picking him up and cradling him, rolling him upside down so he lay in his big hands.
The puppy wriggled to make himself more comfortable, then looked up with total trust. He really was the ugliest puppy. He was so ugly he was cute.
The puppy wriggled again and Bing nosed him and plopped down beside Max, as if to say if you want to take him on, I’m with you. This one’s okay.
Bing was right between Max and the girl beside him. The obvious place for Bing to be was on Max’s far side, away from Sarah but Bing was pressed really close to Sarah. Like, he was approving of Sarah as well.
“He really is adorable,” Sarah said, leaning over to stroke her puppy’s tummy. “He’s beautiful.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Every mother thinks their kid’s beautiful.”
“You really do intend adopting him?”
“I already have. Done deal. One look and my heart was his.”
And she spoke lightly, easily, but underneath . . . He could hear the depth of feeling. He could feel the commitment.
“Sarah . . . ”
“Mmm?”
But he didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He wasn’t all that sure what was going on. They were sitting on the top veranda step. The night was warm around them. They really were the most beautiful pajamas . . .
The most beautiful woman . . . .
Yeah, here you go, he told himself, harshly, forcing his mind to be practical. One woman slips into your life and suddenly all your vows seem to be on shaky ground.
Because, sitting here in the moonlight, they did seem shaky.
But they were good vows, and he needed to remember them. He’d seen what emotional entanglement had meant for his mother; it meant chaos. He’d also seen what had happened to Harold. Harold had fallen in love with a gorgeous American. She’d been a real beauty, Harold had said wistfully, showing him a picture of the lovely, laughing Lorissa—the woman who’d been his bride and then proceeded to rob him of everything he had.
This girl was that woman’s daughter.
This woman was far too close for comfort.
He should edge away, but that’d seem crass. Bing was wedged in between them, seemingly taking warmth from both of them as he nosed the puppy. The puppy stretched his head back and Bing licked from tail to chin.
Gerome practically purred.
*
Was there anything sexier than man with puppy? If there was, Sarah had yet to see it.
Max was your quintessential farmer, a big guy, dressed in battered jeans with his shirt sleeves rolled, his arms all brawn, his big hands sinewed and toughened from hard manual work. Right now, his hands formed a cradle. Gerome lay cocooned by their strength. He was fed, warmed and secure. He was way too skinny but right now his tummy was nicely rounded with the top-up supper she’d just given him.
Max was stroking his tummy. Gerome had his eyes closed in bliss. Whatever nightmares lay in this little guy’s past, they no longer mattered.
And Sarah found herself suddenly thinking of her own childhood, her own nightmares. And how this farm had been her sanctuary, her one true thing.
She’d had to leave—of course she had. This place had never been her home.
Gerome would have to leave. She’d take him back to New York. She’d do the best she could for him, but would he ever be happier than he was right now, cradled by Max, surrounded by the smells
“It takes years before you learn.”
“Can you unlearn? How long have you been on this place?”
“Sarah . . . ”
“Yeah, I know, not my business,” she said, cordially, and knelt down and fondled Bing’s ears. Under her t-shirt the puppy squirmed and she tugged him out. She set him down on the veranda and he wobbled a couple of puppy steps and sat down.
Bing nosed him and he looked up and whined.
Before he could help himself, Max found himself picking him up and cradling him, rolling him upside down so he lay in his big hands.
The puppy wriggled to make himself more comfortable, then looked up with total trust. He really was the ugliest puppy. He was so ugly he was cute.
The puppy wriggled again and Bing nosed him and plopped down beside Max, as if to say if you want to take him on, I’m with you. This one’s okay.
Bing was right between Max and the girl beside him. The obvious place for Bing to be was on Max’s far side, away from Sarah but Bing was pressed really close to Sarah. Like, he was approving of Sarah as well.
“He really is adorable,” Sarah said, leaning over to stroke her puppy’s tummy. “He’s beautiful.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Every mother thinks their kid’s beautiful.”
“You really do intend adopting him?”
“I already have. Done deal. One look and my heart was his.”
And she spoke lightly, easily, but underneath . . . He could hear the depth of feeling. He could feel the commitment.
“Sarah . . . ”
“Mmm?”
But he didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He wasn’t all that sure what was going on. They were sitting on the top veranda step. The night was warm around them. They really were the most beautiful pajamas . . .
The most beautiful woman . . . .
Yeah, here you go, he told himself, harshly, forcing his mind to be practical. One woman slips into your life and suddenly all your vows seem to be on shaky ground.
Because, sitting here in the moonlight, they did seem shaky.
But they were good vows, and he needed to remember them. He’d seen what emotional entanglement had meant for his mother; it meant chaos. He’d also seen what had happened to Harold. Harold had fallen in love with a gorgeous American. She’d been a real beauty, Harold had said wistfully, showing him a picture of the lovely, laughing Lorissa—the woman who’d been his bride and then proceeded to rob him of everything he had.
This girl was that woman’s daughter.
This woman was far too close for comfort.
He should edge away, but that’d seem crass. Bing was wedged in between them, seemingly taking warmth from both of them as he nosed the puppy. The puppy stretched his head back and Bing licked from tail to chin.
Gerome practically purred.
*
Was there anything sexier than man with puppy? If there was, Sarah had yet to see it.
Max was your quintessential farmer, a big guy, dressed in battered jeans with his shirt sleeves rolled, his arms all brawn, his big hands sinewed and toughened from hard manual work. Right now, his hands formed a cradle. Gerome lay cocooned by their strength. He was fed, warmed and secure. He was way too skinny but right now his tummy was nicely rounded with the top-up supper she’d just given him.
Max was stroking his tummy. Gerome had his eyes closed in bliss. Whatever nightmares lay in this little guy’s past, they no longer mattered.
And Sarah found herself suddenly thinking of her own childhood, her own nightmares. And how this farm had been her sanctuary, her one true thing.
She’d had to leave—of course she had. This place had never been her home.
Gerome would have to leave. She’d take him back to New York. She’d do the best she could for him, but would he ever be happier than he was right now, cradled by Max, surrounded by the smells
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